Essays from the Underside
by KATAANGFOREVERanEVER
Summary: Various thoughts of small town children. Rated for some language and ideas.


A.N. -So basically I love creative writing and storytelling, however I hate the actual writing part of writing but I am a high school junior this year and am enrolled in Art of the Essay. I write at least one essay draft a day (based on a theme or idea), and because I'm a nerd and I can almost all my essays are SP based. I really liked a lot of them and they are written in an artistic (well at least I think so…) manner. So I hope you enjoy them, there is no plot but I will tell you the prompt and characters of each essay. P.S. don't let the word 'essay' scare you they don't read like essay's and you would never know if I didn't tell you, just give it a chance 3

Disclaimer: South Park is not mine.

Characters- Craig, Implied Tweek

Prompt- A narrative essay starting with the cliché 'It was a dark and stormy night…'

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night. Lightning flashed, the sky was illuminated and for that brief second I saw something. I know I did. It was over there not even 12 feet away from me in the corner, moving and thriving and who knows what else! Oh God! I knew when I sun finally rose and blinded me through my east facing bedroom window, the monster in the corner would replace himself with a pile of clothes or a chair with a jacket and then slink back under my bed or to the furthest recesses of my mind. Whatever cluttered place it truly lived, but for now, right at this moment it was still there and it was real. I couldn't take it. Every night, every _freaking_ night. It was 3:30 now and they were there. Call me paranoid but I'm sure they are, they have to be there. The monsters, touching who knows where, taking who knows what. It's the same shit every night. I figured it out, I know their plan, they may not know it yet but they will soon enough. They are after my blood, I mean, that's what monsters eat, right? Yeah humans, that's it, I read that somewhere.

I clutch my cell phone to my chest, I just want relief some sort of peace. It's not that I'm crazy; I'm just… not so sure of the intentions of people who tell me things. It could all be a conspiracy against me perhaps because I know the monsters existence. I'm some sort of forbidden fruit to them, 'The One Who Knew'. Or it could be simpler than that. I might just be the tastiest person on this street, a salvageable meal among garbage. So in an attempt to keep their own children safe, the parents of my street joined together in a force against me. Telling me that I'm safe and there are no monsters so I will let my guard down and become easy prey.

"Sweetheart you're being silly. There is no such thing as monsters."

"B-b-but I hear them! If they aren't there w-what the _fuck_ could be making those n-noises!"

"Shhhhhh! _Keep your voice down. _It's just your imagination playing tricks on you. I promise you can go to sleep and nothing will get you."

"You're s-sure..?"

"Positive."

"Oh… Okay goodnight… I guess."

Then I close my eyes and

_Snatch_

"GAAAAHH!"

_**CRUNCH**_

gone.

It's not as if I am afraid of everything; Cause I'm not! Other people just never seem to realize the true dangers out there! I suppose that no one wants to have their eyes opened to the greater multitude of nightmares that surround them, so I can't really blame them for not understanding…

A rustle in the corner.

But **no one! REALLY**! Nobody understands, nobody ever wa-

Well that's not true. There is somebody and he has always been there. Craig, has always understood me, and is my safe hideaway from the world, that so desperately wants to burn me to a crisp or feed me to monsters whatever it may be. I met Craig shortly after I moved here, on my first day of school. You see unbeknownst to the student body, our lunch lady was secretly putting steroids into our food. I _needed _to tell everyone , but my attempt to foil Ms. Casprair's evil plan was seen as an elaborate plea for attention, instead of the grave warning it was. Everyone thought it was funny and that the new kid would make school more interesting. What if he got her **fired! **Craig wasn't everyone. Craig's distaste for anything exciting or interesting past a certain extent, wouldn't allow his nice boring school life routine to be ruined by the insightful and preemptive warnings I so promptly intended to provide. So he took it upon himself to cut through the crowd surrounding me in a humming farce of a Q and A, eager to know more about this steroid scandal or basically anything else that came from my mouth. And in a rather dramatic first impression, shoved me against the wall. My noble effort at a struggle was cut short, when his nasally "Stop!" hit my face, smelling of ham and cigarettes. Something in his voice held the authority to stop my movements dead in their tracks and I listened to him through my stupor.

"Didn't you eat the cafeteria food at your old school?" His voice was a throaty drone that unless given your full attention, would slur and roll together into long melodic lines of suggestion.

"Yes b-bu-"

"No. You should know that _all_ lunch ladies put drugs in the food, but the school board's got it handled and only provide the bitches with pre packaged, drug resistant meat." He said this like a teacher who had to give you 'D' cause you had no idea what the topic of your paper was.

"But then why d-don't they just fire them!"

"It's a union thing." And that was all he wrote.

Craig released me from my position against the wall, told me to chill out and for the first time in my life I did. It was this beautiful moment of clarity and relief, I had finally been given a sound reason not to fear what I knew was true.

There wasn't a single day after that, where I didn't run everything by Craig. He gave explanations, **proof **that I didn't have to be scared, that I had no reason to be. I still was of course, but it felt much more within my control. The relationship of therapist and patient soon took on an air of duty and dependency, respectively, till we developed to the point, where now he doesn't even have to say anything, just being near him is enough. I know nobody can hurt me when Craig is around. Which lead to a revelation, even I'm sorry I had.

If nothing can hurt me when he's there, everything can when he's not.

This leads me to my current situation my thumb hovering over 1, Craig's speed dial. I can't call him tonight, not again. Wasn't there like a game tomorrow or something, Craig would need his sleep. He-

Was that a growl?

I pulled out my phone so fast I nearly threw it across the room. One, that's my safety number.

A deep nasally "hello" seeped into my ears.

Ahhh peace.


End file.
